KMart Kid
by Phantom Myst
Summary: This is the story behind K-Mart, how she came into the convoy, and her relationship with Carlos. Based on RE: Extinction movie. I have taken some liberties and changed some of the facts. Please R&R.Rated T for some langauge from Claire. Complete!
1. Chapter 1

The bright K-Mart sign shone over the parking lot, the M sputtering to stay lit. There was a spattering of cars in the silent area, some untouched, others crushed in with broken windows, scarlet blood caking the interior as well as the exterior. The distant sounds of screaming and growling did little to affect the eerie silence that engulfed the store's area. Some lights within had staid lit since the store's abandonment about three years ago. Since The T-Virus had begun it's reign of terror. The city had, for the most part, become the feeding ground of some of the smaller groups of the undead that had never made it out of the city, finding and killing whatever survivors were found in the small town that lay some hundred miles south of San Francisco.

The calming silence was broken the sound of tennis shoes smacking the pavement, a girl's harsh, sobbing breaths as she raced for the cover of the K-Mart. Behind her followed the slow moving, but ever progressing undead, twelve of them at least, all desperate for the first fresh flesh they had seen in weeks.

The girl came to a smashing halt against the glass doors, which she had expected to open for her automatically, but it looked like the electronics had long worn out. She beat at the doors frantically, despair flooding over her. She was dead, she knew it. Her heart pounded like a rabbit caught within the jaws of a hungry wolf, threatening to explode within her. She scratched futilely at the doors, before managing to slip her fingers into the slight space between them. Calling up all her reserves of strength after running for at least five miles, she pulled desperately at the doors, begging whatever power that be to let the door slide open enough for her to squeeze through. If she could get inside, she could find a place to hide. Though relentless, the undead were dumb, and never thought to look _inside_ of something they could not see through.

Utter relief rushed through her as the doors gave way a foot or so. She slid her leg through the opening, but she could not get her hips and abdomen through. The undead drew closer, their growling and cawing stabbing her with terror. Desperately, she pushed with all her might at the doors, screaming as she pushed the sticky doors beyond her bodily capacity. Her muscles strained, and her shoulder joints screamed as she shoved the bones into the back of their sockets. She gasped when the doors gave way suddenly, allowing her to fall through. She tumbled to the ground, her body unable to catch it's own exhausted weight. She glanced at the pack of undead that drug, limped, and dragged itself towards her with a will. She realized she was screaming and scrambled to her feet, tripping and launched herself forward before gaining her balanced and running as best she could on legs that felt like led. The undead had not reached the doors yet as she darted clumsily down the isles of the ruined K-Mart in zigzag fashion looking desperately for a small cabinet to hide in.

She slid to a stop at a door towards the back of the store labeled "Employees Only". She turned the knob and slid inside, closing it as quietly as possible. A single light spattered feebly, allowing enough light to see a des with an over-turned computer and lamp. She scrambled over to the other side and found a cabinet on the backside, just large enough for her to squeeze into. Opening it, she shoved the papers and files packed within onto the floor and fought to fit her body into the enclosed space. She pulled at the bottom of the cabinet door and jerked lightly, activating the magnet that had held it closed before. There she waited, her breath harsh, despite her attempts to control it, her heart threatening to fail her, but there she waited for whatever destiny might bring her.

"Clair? Anything?" Carlos Olivera said quietly into his walkie-talkie as the convoy of trucks and survivors moved steadily through what seemed yet another forgotten and destroyed town. They had received transmissions over a crackling radio that there were survivors in this area, but they had yet to find any.

"Nothing," their leader's voice sounded despairingly over the little hand held radio. "We were too late. Again."

"Clair, we tried. We've just got to keep looking," Carlos's voice said softly.

"We've _been_ trying. There's nothing. No one. We're the last."

"Clair…" Carlos began in a concerned voice, but their leader ignored him, pouring out emotion she had kept locked up for three years.

"Everything is dead but us. Even the earth is dying."

"Clair…"

"We're all going to die anyway. Why do we even bother looking?"

"Clair!" Carlos's voice was sharp, but he did not shout. It shocked Clair out of her stupor and she stopped.

"I'm sorry it's just…"

"No. Stop the truck. Look at that K-Mart. There's a small pack of them swarming into it." Clair stopped the lead truck and gazed out the cross-iron window towards the K-Mart. She counted ten outside, not quiet in the doors, and she was sure she saw another few move just inside the dim light of the interior beyond the doors.

"Is it worth checking out?"

"If this place is totally abandoned, there's no reason for them to swarm that way. There's got to be someone in there."

"Let's go."

Alison sat cramped and exhausted within the small cabinet, her heart still racing, but her breath easier to take. Not that it mattered. If they found her, breathing was the last of her worries. She could hear a few of them clambering and growling about just outside the office door. She fought o hold her breathing in check, clutching her cut arm in an attempt to stop the smell from guiding them to her. It had been her sliced arm, which had alerted them of her presence, and set her on the run again. Three weeks ago, the Virus had taken over her city, and her family of a Mother and two sisters had been killed, along with her best friend Shila. She had managed to hide under her house for two days before emerging and periodically running from the creatures. Now she could only wonder how much longer she would survive. She had only managed to scrounge trashcans for food, and thus found only three meals in those three weeks. The last one had been two days ago…

Loud bangs and shots rang out, causing her to gasp and her heart to skip a beat. Guns… did that mean people? Real, live people? Her heart raced with the knowledge that the last time she had heard those noises, it had been the law enforcement attempting to off the creatures one by one by machine gun. Then again, for all she knew, K-Mart may sell guns and the undead must has gotten into them. Her heart raced and pounded painfully, her gut twisting with the decision: leave her hiding place in hopes of finding people that could help her and chance facing nothing but the undead by mistake or stay and give herself a ninety-percent chance of surviving this time.

Voices shouting incoherently above the cries and snarls and guns made her decision for her. Opening the cabinet ever so cautiously, she eased herself out of the desk-pocket and crept to the door, listening for sounds of near by undead. A shot smashed through the door, startling her unto her backside, a short scream emitting from her mouth. Another shot rang out and the sick squirting sound of blood and brains splattering against the door churned her stomach before the door smashed open.

A tall man that looked to be of either Hispanic or Israeli heritage looked down at her, a large machinegun supported in his hands. He was decked out for battle, his hips slung heavy with ammo over his camouflage pants, intimidating large army boots adorning his feet at her eye level. A hand freed itself from his gun and he held it out for her.

"You ok?" he asked as she took his large hand. She failed to answer, but gave in to her overwhelming need to attach to herself to a living, caring human being. Using his hand as leverage, she flung herself against him, hugging onto his hips, hard ammo and all, fiercely. She had seen that he was tall, but she was struck by just how tall when she realized her twelve-year-old frame only just topped his waistline. "I'll take that as a yes," the man answered himself, gently trying to pry her from his side. Before he could manage this, she hugged on tighter and screamed as an undead crawled towards them in the dim light, one leg dangling behind it, it's arms outstretched for them. Her savior swung about, uncaring for her extra weight and fired the gun off with abandon. The undead fell to the tile floor, it's gruesome head obliterated. He looked back down at her. "Look, K-Mart, we gotta go. Can you keep up?" Unwilling to leave the first human side she had known in three weeks, she nodded eagerly and grasped onto the man's battle-hot hand.

Carlos glanced down at her, be decided not to unglue her again unless necessary. This kid was small and terrified. He didn't blame her for being desperate to remain in contact.

"Ok, You can hold on, K-Mart, but if one of those bastards comes along, you have to let go so I can shoot." The girl whimpered an ok, and he set off at a hasty jog, shouting into his walkie-talkie. "Clair, guys, everybody, let's go. I've got the survivor."

"Over," came the answer from various voices.

They got to the entrance doors, the others taking up Carlos's flanks at an equally brisk jog.

"All twelve dead," Clair informed him, but never slowing her pace. "But we don't know if there are more around."

"Let's hit the trucks then," Carlos answered as they reached the parked convoy, opening up the bus doors for the girl to join the other children they had gather over the past three years. The girl again glued herself to Carlos's side, shaking her head violently.

"No," she whispered. "Let me stay with you, please?"

Alison gazed up at the man that had been the first safety she had known in what seemed like forever, feeling as though she would die if she did not have his protection.

"Don't you want to be with the other children? They are all friendly, I promise." Alison shook her head again.

"No," she answered simply. "Please."

Any other day, he would have found a child of twelve or so acting this way to be pathetic and annoying, but this one struck a cord for him. He sighed and turned away, assuming she would follow and opened the cab door to his truck. She indeed scrambled in without delay, and he settled in, shutting the door.

"All set?" he asked into the Walkie-Talkie.

"Let's hit it."

"Move it out."


	2. Chapter 2

The tires hummed quietly over the street, filling the silence between Carlos and the girl, whom he had assigned the title "K-Mart" for lack of a better name. He glanced over at the girl huddled against the opposite door without turning his head, the fact that he had not even asked her name yet in the two hours the convoy had been on the rode occurring to him.

"Are you always this quiet?" he teased, attempting to break the ice. It was understandable for her to have little to talk about. What could she have to say that everyone had not already seen for themselves at some point in the years after the T-Virus overran the world? The girl turned her head to look at him, and shook her head slowly.

"Nothing to talk about," she answered simply. Carlos nodded solemnly and decided for a different angle.

"Where are you from?"

"Karcen City," she said shortly. " By San Fran." Carlos nodded.

"What about you?" the girl fired back before he could ask another question.

"I grew up in different places. I'm not a steady person." The girl eyed him and smiled.

"You look steady to me." Carlos glanced over at her again sharply. He didn't like the fact that this conversation was beginning to name him as the subject.

"What's your name? We can't keep calling you K-Mart."

"Does it matter? Everyone that knows my name is dead."

"So why stay in the past?" Carlos finished her thought. The girl nodded silently. "What do you want to be called?" The girl stared ahead and answered simply,

"K-Mart."

The sun was falling behind the hills ahead of them, the usual terrifying silence surrounding them. Terrifying because any other sound meant danger now. Even the animals had become infected. The convoy had stopped for the night, already having finished their pathetic meals of canned foods. Most of the group had settled down to sleep, friends and families that had not been ripped apart by death huddling and using each other as pillows. The children without parents stayed huddled within the bus, the younger ones hugging onto the elder of the children.

Carlos continued to wipe down one of his larger guns, trying to keep his movements smooth and steady so as not to disturb the girl that used his arm as a soft landing to sleep upon. A boot stepped up beside him upon the dried school field on which they had settled. He gazed up to see Claire looking down at him with a smirk.

"Looks like you gained a shadow."

"I don't know how she survived alone for so long," he answered, absent-mindedly returning to wiping down his gun.

"How do any of us survive?" Claire asked, sinking down beside him against the wheel of the yellow SUV. "Luck."

"Smarts," Carlos corrected. "Smarts and cunning. But this kid…" he paused. "She put us in danger right and left when I found her."

"We're probably the first survivors she has seen since the T-Virus took over. Most of these kids latch on to the first person they see. It's instinct." Claire looked over at the girl sleeping soundly on Carlos's opposite shoulder. "But this one is particularly clingy. What's her name?"

"K-Mart." Claire shot her gaze back to him in confusion.

"Say what?"

"She wants to be called K-Mart," Carlos answered without looking up from his gun.

"Why on earth would she want to be called that? She was nearly killed there."

"She was saved there. She connects her name with a dead family. I called her K-Mart when I found her. I guess she decided she liked it." Claire shook her head.

"Be careful Carlos," she warned as she gathered herself to her feet. "Don't get too attached. She might die." _Or you might,_ the comment hung in the air as she walked away.

_And then what will she be left with?_ Carlos answered silently, but he ignored the convoy's leader.

He didn't worry about becoming attached anymore. It was second nature to distance himself after years of being forced to put a bullet into more than one friend's head once they were infected with the T-Virus. Still, the girl had become fused to his side, and unless she was in one of the trucks or vans with him, she physically fused herself to him. It was true, she could slow him down, but he didn't worry about it too much. When the time came for him to fight, he would have to handle it then. But until that time came- and it was inevitable- he would allow the girl whatever comfort she could afford.


	3. Chapter 3

Carlos woke to the heart-pounding sound of the motion sensors going off. He was not the only one to wake- most of the convoy had, and others were waking those that hadn't. He reached to grab his machine gun, waking K-Mart. She sat up, suddenly alert. Both stood, and he started towards the tech van, accepting his right forearm being hugged by his female shadow. Claire fell into stride beside him, breaking down from her jog.

"Mikey- what's out there?" Claire demanded, taking a step into the van, gazing at the screens.

"False alarm. Just a bird" Mikey answered in a worn voice, his Australian accent slurred.

"Animals have become dangerous," Carlos answered, keeping his eyes fixed on the camera screens.

"It would have attacked by now if…what the fuck?" One of the sound systems was picking up odd vibrations, the cameras all fixing towards the motion that caused them. One of the cameras went out with a hiss, causing Carlos to curse, but another camera was suddenly filled with the deformed face of an undead. Now Carlos and Claire jumped back in surprise, while K-Mart let out a squeak, covering her mouth quickly.

"Shit. How many are out there?" Claire barked at Mikey. The ordered man clicked some keys and all the cameras swiveled, scanning the area, one continuing to follow the singular undead. It was creeping along the perimeter, slow and clumsy.

"Looks like that's the only one." Carlos shook his head.

"I'm going to go take a look," he stated, quickly loading his weapon.

"You take the east side, I'll take the west," Claire agreed, unsheathing her twin slugs and striding determinedly in her assigned direction. Carlos turned on his heal to do the same, only to feel the extra weight upon his arm again. He stopped, sighing, and kneeled facing K-Mart.

"You have to stay here, do you understand?" The girl shook her head violently.

"I want to go with you. Give me a gun. I can help."

"You can't go. Stay here, I'll be back." He stood and took a testing stride away. K-Mart followed. He took her shoulder in hand, her shoulder bony beneath his fingers, and shook it firmly. "Stay." He looked at her with commanding eyes and raised brows, and the girl took a step back. Satisfied he had convinced her, he walked away towards his direction, weaving in and out of milling survivors.

He shifted and released the lock on his gun, tense and keenly aware of his surroundings as he reached the camera lines. He stepped past them, clicking on his flashlight and sweeping its beam around him. He heard the distinct firing of Claire's slugs and immediately took off towards the sound, stopping short when a movement to his right caught his attention. An undead was slowly making its way onto the school's dying field crest. Without hesitation, he released a clip into the creature's skull, firing dead on. The undead collapsed, and he surveyed the area again before trotting off to find Claire, who was firing yet again. He could hear the camp mumbling and whispering in anxious tones, but for the most part, the convoy was silent. All had learned by now to stay moderately quiet, as well as the fact that a few shots fired did not necessarily mean that they had to pile into the trucks. Another undead came into his view, and he shot off another clip, using every clip's bullet strong and true. The undead woman crumpled the to ground.

"Carlos? You ok?" Claire's voice crackled over the walkie-talkie.

"Fine. Took out two. What about you?"

"Three. Doesn't seem to be anymore, but let's continue to scout the area for a while. The noise might have drawn attention."

"Right. Over." He paused a moment before clicking back online. "Mikey- any sign of movement on the north end?"

"Not according to the camera sensors, but let's keep a weather eye out. Over."

"I'm on it."

He had scouted the area for about fifteen minutes before another movement caught his eye. He was instantly on his knee, gun aimed, his finger tensed to pull before a familiar squeak sounded from the thing he had trained his gun towards. His heart hammered and he lowered his gun, but he did not voice his curses.

"I thought I told you to stay in the camp."

"But nothing has been out here for a while, and Mikey said he thought it would be ok and…"

"Mikey?" Carlos cursed under his breath now. Oh, Mikey would hear about this when he got back in.

"I begged, it wasn't his fault," the girl quickly covered.

"Wrong," Carlos answered dryly. "Get back in there." He was not normally this short with people, but he did not want the girl in the open any longer than she already had been.

"Please let me stay. You have an extra gun… you could teach me to shoot! I might need to one day!" the girl's voice had gone high and excited now. It's immature, eager tone made him cringe. Anyone with that tone of voice when talking about guns should never be handed one, much less allowed to use it.

"No," he answered firmly. "Now go." The girl stood her ground.

"I've staid alive by hiding, Carlos," the girl said in a serious voice now. "If I'm with the group, there won't be anywhere to hide. I can't protect myself. If I knew how to shoot…" Carlos gazed at her for a moment, sizing her up.

She was a scrawny thing, to be sure, but she had a lean frame. She had a point, and it surely could not hurt beyond the waste of bullets. Sighing, he picked up his walkie-talkie and clicked online again.

"I've got a jam in my 5 caliber. I'll be unloading a few shots," he lied with a strained voice into the radio.

"Over," Claire's voice acknowledged.

Carlos simply looked at the determined girl before him before hanging his head and motioning her forward. K-Mart came forward, her demeanor all business now, as he unsheathed his 5 caliber.

"Alright. Here's your safety lock. You draw it back and release before you can shoot," he instructed, placing his flashlight under his arm and shining it on the gun. "Now, when you aim, let your eyes follow this raised line," he simplified, rather than using the correct terms. "Shoot for the head or neck. Any body part may slow them down, but it won't kill them." He gazed towards the school's mobile buildings lined along the field, looking for a target. "See that shadow on the wall? The round one? Aim for the center, both eyes open. But don't let them cross." The girl raised the gun, her elbows loose. He straightened her arms gently, and raised the gun directly to eye level. "This is your position. Keep it. Ready? Shoot."

A fire rang out, and the girl flinched, allowing the gun to jerk up. She dropped her arms, and he took supported her hands as her arms shook. He chuckled, remembered how shocking the first time he had shot a gun was. It was a nerve-racking experience as it pushed you backwards.

"Not too far off the mark. Try again." He raised her arms again, setting the gun back at her eye level. Another shot rang out, and this time, K-Mart braced herself, holding the gun steady. Carlos stared at the shadow in surprise, shining his flashlight towards the target area, his brows raised. It was a dead-on hit.

"Maybe you could be helpful," he said, watching K-Mart's face split in a grin.

"Do I get a gun?"

"Don't get too cocky," he answered, picking out his radio as Claire's voice hissed onto the monitor.

"We're clear. If they were near enough to make it here, the bastards would be here already. Bring it in."

"Over," Carlos answered, and smiled at K-Mart. "I think I'll take that," he said as she handed back the gun. "Lets get back in and catch a few hours sleep."


	4. Chapter 4

**Six Months Later**

"Carlos!" Claire called, her voice carrying easily through the quietly murmuring convoy.

"You could use the radios. That's what there for," Carlos's voice answered on her walkie-talkie.

"I felt like yelling," Claire answered grimly.

"What did I do this time?"

Claire smiled at this, but gave an annoyed look at the girl beside her in the truck. K-Mart grinned sheepishly.

"Your little shadow wants a gun."

There was silence over the line, and Claire could imagine Carlos shaking his head.

"Are you going to explain to her- _yet again_ -why she is not allowed a gun?" she prompted.

"I tried. It's your turn," the short answer came. K-Mart grinned in devilish triumph now.

"Pointless," Claire answered, but she did not deliver it over the radio. She snorted before clicking online again. " You done putting those perimeters up yet?" Another pause.

"I am now. On my way in. See you for mapping."

Claire looked over to K-Mart, who gazed at her with pleading eyes. They were not the immature eyes of the twelve year old they had picked up in the store after which she was named, any longer. But they were not of a grown woman, either. They were the eyes of a child that had seen too much before her maturity level was equipped to handle it. She had warned Carlos to be careful not to become attached, but she had to admit now, however grudgingly, that she had become fond of the girl. She could be an annoying little nit. She was the only child in the entire convoy that had not attached to someone within the survivor group, and the only one that talked to the leaders. Though all but LJ and Mikey pretended to be irritated by the girl, she was a lift of spirits with her childish laughter that came so easily, when all others could only manage grim shakes of heads. Carlos, on the other hand, showed no annoyance or fondness. Claire knew, however, that he cared for the girl that had latched herself to him for the near of three months before Carlos managed to defuse the girl from his side for more than five minutes at a time. K-Mart was becoming more independent now, and for this, everyone in the leading group was glad. None wanted to see her gone, but some had worried that the experience of being alone, terrified, and constantly fleeing for her life, had wounded her permanently. LJ had observed her one day as she sat on the back of the motor bike upon which Carlos carried the motion cameras without asking permission, wrapping her slender arms about Carlos's waist, saying,

"What will that girl do when Carlos dies?" It was a singularly serious thought out of a generally joking man, but all had nodded in agreement. That she began allowing Carlos time alone now was clearing their worried. Nevertheless, K-Mart still accompanied Carlos at night, and through the early morning.

"Fine," Claire answered, rolling her eyes. K-Mart allowed her smile to show a charming set of teeth before jumping up from ground of the dying forest, and took off at a dead run

Carlos was not surprised to see the young girl speeding towards him as he pulled the bike into the encampment and turned off its engine. He smiled gently, and allowed the girl her accustomed hug. K-Mart had become more independent, it was true, but after hearing shots numerous times while he was out placing sensors or scouting, she had created a habit of attempting to squeeze his insides to death the moment he pulled in. Her attachment had created a great worry for him. He had never been a physically loving person, but he never denied her those moments of renewed comfort, and he always returned with a firm squeeze. He sometimes thought of his little sister, Tara, when he felt K-Mart hugging him tightly. He had never really returned her affection, and had greatly regretted it after he had returned home to find only remains of his family's residence. He had known then that his family, like so many others, no longer existed humanly, and so they were dead to him.

"Why are you giving Claire a hard time about having a gun?" he asked teasingly, but he put a firm tone in his voice. "You know we can't allow you to have a gun all the time. Accidents happen. Ah-ah-ah," he corrected as she opened her mouth to argue. "If they attack and there is a gun on-hand, shoot the bastards' heads off, but until then, no gun." He gave a shoulder a small, firm shake, his sign that the conversation was now over, and then continued forward.

K-Mart followed silently, content to remain silently by his side. She had rarely spoken when she had attached herself to him firmly, and so she rarely spoke now. They made their way routinely to the yellow SUV, and climbed in the back. She settled into him as he stretched out across the back seat, nestling her head on his chest, allowing his steady heartbeat to lull her. He reached over her onto the ground, and tugged a crumbled, thin blanket atop of the girl, before letting himself relax against the car door.

Claire passed by on her way to the black Toyota, ready for her bit of sleep before the midnight shift came on. Both she and Carlos had been assigned the midnight shift, and so both slept three hours before the call. She paused, gazing through the open door of the yellow Hummer through which Carlos's booted feet and K-Mart's tennis stretched out, an looked on with a mixture of sadness and envy. Carlos had sensed her presence, and his eyes opened momentarily, raising a half-hearted hello gesture before relaxing again. She hung her head and continued on.

Carlos listened to Claire's firm footsteps carry away from the car, and he sighed. Sometimes, he felt sorry for the woman. She had put this convoy together, led it wisely and faithfully. Yet she had no one to cushion her when she fell, no one to hug onto at night like he or K-Mart. He had been more than comfortable being a loner until K-Mart had come along, and he had accepted her as a shadow easily. Claire, however, refused to allow any real commradery between herself and any other living being, despite her dedication to preserving humanity. She had once explained the deaths of her families and friends to him, in a rare moment of release. She, like he had, had been forced to put a bullet in all of their heads. It had scarred her badly, and now she refused friendship from anyone that offered it. She was friendly enough, and fond of some, perhaps, but none one could claim friendship with the hard woman.

K-Mart shifted slightly, and sighed gently against him. He did not open his yes to see if she was away. He knew she was. If the girl did not move within five minutes, it was sue sign of sleeping, but she never staid in one position until she was completely asleep. He raised his hand slightly to touch the girl's honey blond hair, but stopped himself. A true show of random affection would only activate strong emotions that he made it a point to keep locked carefully away from his heart. If he allowed himself to hold her too close to his head, and she was to turn… He clenched his teeth. He cared about the kid too much already. He was not sure he would be able to put the bullet in her head if she turned. He cracked his eyes open a slit, seeing the hazy gleam of her light hair in the orange light of the camp's fires. She did not have to tell him how she lost her family, but he had always wondered why she had created such a deep attachment so quickly, while others that they had found were always loners for months, remaining entirely friendless until they got to know the strangers around them.

"K-Mart."

The girl shifted, and made a questioning sound lightly.

"You lost more than your family to the undead, didn't you?"

K-Mart's shifting stopped suddenly, and he felt her tense against him. She did not answer at first, and he waited, allowing her time to think about something she had most likely pushed out of her thoughts since the day she had been found, if not longer. Finally, the girl nodded, but remained silent.

"Who was it?" he asked quietly, his voice low and careful not to draw attention from outside.

"Shila."

Carlos waited again, patiently.

"We hid under the bathroom sinks. I heard them outside the door, eating mom and dad," she began slowly. Carlos made no movement or sound. The story was very familiar, and nothing to comment on. "They made these squishing noises…like a foot in the mud." He felt her stomach against his own, churning and complaining as she recalled her story. "Everything was quiet, so we came out…we went to the kitchen to try to make it out the back door, but they had knocked over the dining table." She swallowed heavily, and he felt tears wetting the material over his chest. "There was still one left, and it heard us. It came in the doorway, and there was no way out but the kitchen window. I knew I would fit but…Shila was too fat. It was coming, even after I threw knives at it. Nothing stopped it." Her voice choked, and she stopped, swallowing again. Still, Carlos said nothing, though he was sure he knew where this was leading. He already had the answer to his question. " I didn't want to leave her, but…she was too big. She couldn't get out. And she could not run fast enough if we had to. I didn't want to leave her…but I knew she would die anyway. I went out the window, but I stopped to watch. I threw rocks at it from the window, but it didn't stop. It bit her throat and chewed on it…she tried to scream, but she couldn't. She just choked like a dying animal…" her voice trailed off, and she gagged between quiet sobs. Carlos closed his eyes and brought his arms about her shoulders gently, cradling her head and stroking her hair with his thumb. "I didn't want to leave her! I left her behind to die. I should have died, too. I'm such a baby. Why did I leave her?" she sobbed into his chest, curling up into herself now, drawing her arms against her breasts and forming a tight ball against him.

"You survived," he answered simply, his voice rumbling gently in his chest against her ear. "That's all any of us can do." He was silent for a second, debating his next words before deciding to seize the proper moment before he lost it. "If you hadn't, I wouldn't have met you. And things would be a lot worse for me right now. You're a good little sister." And with a rare show of affection that nearly pained him, knowing that either one or the other would eventually lose the other, he gently kissed the crown of her head.

He continued to hold her silently until she had cried herself to sleep, holding close, and cherishing, the warm body of a loved one.


	5. Chapter 5

Author Note: I know it's a terribly short chapter that did not quite deal with the incident as well as I would have liked, but I am dog tired and half asleep. Nevertheless, I wanted to get another chapter up, and I figure for a scene like this, short and straight to the point is better. The issue of her having actually used a gun will be addressed in the next chapter.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**A Year Later**

"Shit!"

Carlos hissed viciously as he fought to reload his gun after his machine gun had emptied out. He dropped the clip, his heart racing like a rabbit caught in a hunter's trap, only the tables had turned. The animals were the ones to be feared now, rather than the humans. His breath came fast and dry, clumsy from surprise and adrenaline. He was not normally so disassociated with his limbs, but the undead had caught them by surprise. They had been camped in the abandoned cattle fields for a day and a half with no sign of lie around them for miles. All had been foolish enough to become relaxed, and there had even been the occasional laughter from the convoy. Most had figured that surely the undead would have come long before them if here were coming to make their sick crawling, groaning, rotting way to the camp. How very wrong they had all been.

One of the undead made it's slow but determined way towards Carlos, and he gave up fumbling with the gun for a moment to pull out a small knife and lunge forward, making quick business of stabbing into the creature's spinal cord, demobilizing it. Desperate for the comfort of the deadly weapon that had saved his life on more than one occasion, he dodged forward to reach the gun, taking it up once more and filling the bullet void with calm surety now. Something about killing the firs undead of each battle always calmed him, reminding him that he had the skills and ability to save himself and others. Self doubt had always rang painfully in his head at the beginning of every struggle for the convoy's life among these undead nightmares.

Screams sounded around him as the larger pack of the undead made their way closer to the convoy behind a few that had been farther ahead, and the expected shouts and bangs of guns being fired by the defenders of the group resounded comfortingly. Who would have thought, five years ago, that the sound of guns would be a welcomed sound?

Carlos took aim at the closest of the undead and opened fire wit pleasure, evacuating clip after clip of his gun, never wasting a single bullet. After what must have been twenty minutes at least of unceasing fire-power being exploded upon the terrifying remnants of humans, silence came quite suddenly. They had nailed ever single-

Carlos's heart leapt into his throat as a heard a very familiar scream coming from the yellow SUV. Without hesitation or thought, he wheeled about and raced for the truck that held a screaming K-Mart. Somehow, a single undead had managed to push past their line of bullets without notice, and was now clawing at K-Mart's jean-clad leg as she kicked wildly. Carlos opened ire upon the creature's back, but it did little to stop the blood-thirsty undead. He took aim for the creature's bobbing head, but it lay directly before K-Mart's heaving chest. Should he miss…

"K-Mart!" he cried out to catch her attention and unsheathed his 50 caliber, throwing it into the car as he came closer to the truck.

His heart froze as he watched her fumble to get a hold of the bouncing gun while continuing to kick the creature away. Carlos had a strong distance when he threw something, but his legs could only carry him so quickly. He could only hope K-Mart managed to-

A loud bang sounded, and a bloody mess of brain, bone, and tissue exploded upon the car. The body of the undead lay limp and lifeless, while K-Mart huddled against the opposite car door, her breath coming in whimpering gasps, tears streaming down her cheeks. Carlos pushed himself the last fifteen feet to the bloody vehicle, jogging to the other side and opening the door, catching the sobbing girl in his arms as she fell willingly against him.

Carlos sunk to the ground against one of the car wheels, rocking the thirteen year old girl back and forth, and his callused hand holding her head to his chest to absorb the wracking sobs of her body. He murmured to her in a slow, low voice, though his heart still raced with the near loss of his little sister. Admittedly, the calm murmurs were more for himself than for the girl, but it seemed to calm her enough that she now only sniffled as Claire, LJ, and Mikey made their way over to the hugging pair. Carlos glared with seething anger at the group, knowing that he was hating them for all the wrong reasons. He wanted to blame someone for her close-call, be able to shout someone's head off for allowing an undead to slip past. But there was no one to place the blame upon. Who knew how that thing had made its way past the barrier of firing guns? The fact of the matter was that the girl was safe.

That was the only fact that comforted him.


	6. Chapter 6

K-Mart stared silently ahead with unseeing eyes as she huddled close to Carlos, who stared equally unseeing into a fire that had been lit near the yellow SUV. The slightest sound would create a unison jump from the hundred member group- all except Carlos and K-Mart.

Claire gazed at the pair that had not let go of each other since Carlos had taken the girl into his arms and glared at Claire, LJ, and Mikey as though they alone were at fault for K-Mart's near death. Something about the experience had fused them back together, but this time it was not on K-Mart's side alone, but also on Carlos's.

The ever-strong man had dropped all emotional walls, holding the girl tightly to his chest. He refused to release her even when they moved next to the fire, at which point he had gathered K-Mart up in his arms and carried her. Equally desperate to stay close to him, K-Mart had made no move unglue herself from him. Neither said anything, but their words were written by movements and gazes. Even as Claire watched them, K-Mart rested her head back upon the man's chest, Carlos laying his head gently upon her own, closing his eyes.

Brows knitted tightly, Claire poked at the small fire before her, her heart clenching. Good lord, what would either of them do when one was lost? The fact that eventually, one or the other would be bitten was a frightening thought. Carlos and K-Mart had become so inseparable over time, that the convoy had come to think of them as a singular person. She was not sure that either could live without the other, and she was not sure the convoy would continue without them.

To the convoy, Carlos and K-Mart had become a sign of hope- a hope that a strong relationship could live through this desert-land nightmare. K-Mart's close call had shaken them all, but it had quaked Claire a different way. She had become grudgingly fond of the honey-haired girl that worshiped Carlos's every move, and for the first time in eight years, someone's face with death hit her personally. She had always worried about the convoy, but she had not taken a personal blow for near a decade. The emotions were reeling and unfamiliar, causing her heart to clench and cold stone to drop into her stomach. Sometimes she felt lonely and thought about allowing herself friends again, but it was nights like tonight that reminded her why she had cut her emotions off from the world in the first place.

Tossing a metal canteen she had been holding at the base of the small fire, she laid back, gun in hand, and closed her eyes in attempt to sleep.

Carlos's body was stiff from holding K-Mart in the same position for hours, but he was loath to release her for fear of loosing her again. He clenched his jaw, a muscle in his cheek twitching once. He could not let things continue like this. The ridiculous connection that had been the core of so many issues recently was going to be the death of him, whether physically or psychologically. The warm body curled up against him still jolted with every sound around them, and he held her firmly each time. She, of all the convoy, had a right to be jumpy tonight.

"Carlos?"

Now he jumped, but he looked down at her blond crown of hair with worry. A vicious voice in his head whispered of her telling him to let go, but he pushed it down. If that was what she wanted, then that would be what happened. He just didn't want to loose his little sister…again.

"Hm?"

"This isn't about me."

Carlos's brows came together in confusion.

"What?"

"This..." he felt her small hands squeeze his arm gently. "This is about the little sister you lost. Not me." She was not saying this to gain pity or attention, but simply stating a fact. His heart skipped a painful beat, and he did not answer for a moment. Sighing, he held her closer and shook his head.

"I miss my sister…but you are not her." He paused again, choosing his words wisely. The girl, however strong she appeared, was fragile beneath it all. "She's dead. You are my sister now... and I nearly lost you. It scared me almost as much as it scared you, I think." He smiled gently. "You finally got to use a gun. Enjoy it?"

K-Mart shuddered against him.

"I thought I could handle it…shit, I wanted it." Carlos tsked at a word that he used often, but had never heard emit from her mouth. She ignored his tsking and continued on. "But when I pointed that gun at him and pulled the trigger, I realized what I was shooting."

"You shot a creature, undead," he quipped. She shook her head.

"They may not think like us anymore… but they're still human. It does not change what they are."

"K-Mart…"

"I know. We have to survive. It's just hard to shoot something that was once an innocent human."

Carlos looked into the fire with steely eyes. "No human is innocent. Most of them deserved it." K-Mart nodded, and Carlos let out a tense breath. They were both silent for a moment before K-Mart spoke again.

"If I ever get bitten and turn…give me a bullet in the head for Shila."

Carlos started, but said nothing, feeling his stomach clench violently. This was not what he had wanted for an outcome.


	7. Chapter 7

The truck ride to Kewanee, Illinois was a worrisome one. Carlos's jaw and shoulders were tight with tension as he followed the winding trail behind the rest of the convoy. He had agreed to take the rear, the least favored position in the driving. The farther back in the line you were, the least likely it was that someone would notice if you were in trouble. Still, Carlos was confident in his ability to take care of himself and K-Mart. Or perhaps he was just being foolish and over-confident.

More than anything, he had taken the back of the line for the semi-private space. It more representative than anything else- a warning to the rest of the convoy to stay back and leave him and K-Mart in peace. No one had spoken to them in the past two days, but they received uncertain glances, glances that said they had trusted them to pull them through this emotionally, and that they had failed.

Carlos's hands gripped the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white. He could handle the looks of disappointment- he had received them many times after an attack from the infectants and had been forced to put a bullet in the victims' heads. He had learned to accept that he would never be able to save them all. He was human, and highly trained though he was, one could only do so much against hundreds of creatures that could only die by severing their spinal cord. What he could not handle was the way they looked at K-Mart. The convoy had come to see her as part of him, and thus she received the silent ridicule as well. The fact that the creature had found her was not her fault, but the convoy still viewed her as a disappointment.

He darted his eyes over to the girl that slept up against his shoulder. Her face was calm and quiet, but he could feel her teeth grinding in her sleep against his skin. He took a deep sigh and looked back to the road before him. K-Mart had not handled the convoy's disregardment well. She had reverted back to latching onto Carlos desperately, refusing to leave his side. They had reverted back to square one, and as before, he had no clue how to solve it. He had been lucky enough that she had slowly gained independence over a year and a half on her own, but he doubted he would be so fortunate this round. He had two choices: allow her to become his shadow once again and risk they safety, or find a way to dislodge the girl. He did not care for either choice, but he was not willing to risk K-Mart's safety again. In the first year after he had found the girl huddling in a K-Mart after which she was named, the girl's demand that she stay forever latched to him had nearly gotten them killed numerous times. Each time, however, he had been able to work around the kid, partly because she was so small. Being short and light, she had been easy to push behind him and around him without thought. The difference was that despite the ease with the girl had learned to maneuver around him during the battles; her growing size was making it more and more difficult. Eventually, he had demanded that she stay locked in the cars for protection. He snorted lightly. They had all seen how much protection she had received staying in one of the cars.

K-Mart stirred beside him and rose with sleepy eyes, her honey-blond hair mussed on the side she had used as a pillow on. Pulling her hair out of its frazzled pony-tail, she brushed her dirty hands through hair that was stringy from being unwashed for four days. The tank top she was wearing was also stained with dirt and the blood of the undead that had threatened her life. Glancing down as she pulled her hair into a neater ponytail, the girl started and dropped her arms immediately, turning red with embarrassment. Carlos cocked a crooked smile and mussed her hair with his hand again. She growled at him.

"You're not a kid anymore," he said gently, turning his attention back to the road. "You're going to have hair under your arms. You haven't showered for days." He pretended to wrinkle his nose in disgust. "You stink." Laughing, K-Mart punched his arm lightly. "Ow." He pushed her lightly on the shoulder. Smiling broadly for the first time in days, the girl pushed him back before hugging onto him tightly. She made a point to make loud sniffing noises.

"You don't exactly smell like a flower," she teased back before releasing him from the hug, though she staid against him, savoring the protective arm that lay draped over her side.

"None of us do," he answered, thinking about the fact that they had not found sanitary water to wash any f the convoy in. They had stocks of water bottles, but they could not be wasted on washing. Again, the hopelessness of the situation hit him. "Nothing does."

The two drove on silently, comfortable only in each other's presence. They were alone in the world now. Before, they had at least had the convoy, but for reasons beyond her comprehension, they, too, were abandoning them. No one spoke to them, no one offered them bottles of water at any given time like they used to. Something about the incident of the infectant attacking her had changed their view of her and Carlos, and she simply could not understand it.

Was it because she had fired a gun with dead-aim and without hesitation? Were they frightened of her? Surely not. Any of them would have done the same to survive. Or so she thought. But she had yet to see anyone besides the already armed leaders and herself pick up a gun and fire, even when the weapons were lying just beside them. What she had noticed, and with irritation, was that the convoy, while shirking Carlos off, also continued to look to him as one of their protectors. Why should he protect them when they showed him nothing but disdain?

"Why does the convoy hate us now?" she asked quietly. The man beside her sighed.

"They don't hate us," he answered carefully. "We have something none of them have: hope. I will do anything to protect you, even if it means sacrificing one of them, and they know it. They resent that."

_They. They. They… We._ She noticed a pattern in his words and realized that Carlos had, whether aware of it or not, separated them almost entirely in his mind, from the rest of the convoy. That frightened her. What would happen if one of them was lost? The other would be left completely alone, having only had the other to look for. Her thoughts were turning deep and dark, her eyes flashing angrily as she thought about the way the convoy was treating the man that protected them with the utmost dedication. Carlos must have felt her spiraling into anger, and squeezed her with his arm gently.

"At least we still have Claire," he said quietly. "She really likes you, you know." K-Mart looked up at him in a surprised fashion.

"Bull," she answered, sitting up straighter. "I irritate her. I'm the shadow that gets in the way. She liked it better when you didn't have me trailing after you." Carlos chuckled and shook his head.

"She likes you," he assured her. "She just doesn't know how to show it. Just wait." He paused, and a painful plan he had been plotting rang through his head. This was his chance to plant the seed…much as he hated to do it. It might be the only way to protect her. "You might try hanging out with her more often. She needs the company."

"Oh, is that why she's always telling me to go be a shadow somewhere else?" se answered sarcastically. Carlos's jaw twitched. Claire was not going to make this easy. He'd have to talk to her as soon as possible.

"She just doesn't want to get close to anyone," he answered. "Keep trying. She'll give in."

"What is this?" K-Mart surveyed him with suspicion. "Some pathetic attempt to get me to leave you alone?" Carlos's face was emotionless, but his heart clenched with pain at the hurt in her tone.

"Claire needs a friend," he replied simply, keeping his words short. _And you need someone besides me._

Carlos gently replaced his thigh with a crumpled jacket beneath K-Mart's head, attempting not to wake her as he went on for midnight watch with Claire. The girl shifted slightly, but otherwise did not wake. He let out a sigh of relief and went to join Claire, who waited for him.

"Carlos…" she began hesitantly as she loaded one of her 5 millimeter mindlessly. "I'm sorry for the way the convoy is treating you and the girl. They have no right to act that way."

"Forget it," Carlos answered, flipping his heavy gun's strap over his shoulder. "I need you to do something."

"What?"

Carlos paused at the perimeter, debating if he was making the right choice. His heart ached with the knowledge of what he was about to do, and he gazed down at the ground with blank eyes.

"Take K-Mart."

"What? You're leaving?" Panic rose in Claire's voice, and her heart raced. She had not realized until this moment how much she had grown to care about and depend on Carlos without being aware of it.

"No," he said simply. "But if we have to survive without each other, she needs someone else. I can't protect her forever." Claire shook her head violently.

"Oh hell no," she objected, cocking her gun and testing its aim. "Unlike you, I like my shadow already. I don't need another."

"Just be nice to her," he begged, gazing at her seriously. "All I want is for her to have someone else in case…" He remembered the dreading fear that had filled him when he had been bitten before. He had not even known the full affect of a bite from the undead at that point, and despair had filled him. He repressed a shudder. Claire hesitated, then placed a hand upon his lower arm.

"Shut up, Carlos," she said gently. "I'll take care of her."


	8. Chapter 8

Three months had passed, and much to Carlos's relief, so had the cold shoulder that the convoy had been giving K-Mart and himself. He had resented their behavior towards him, but he had learned to hate them bitterly for the way they treated K-Mart. What few people she had made friendly conversations with ignored her when she greeted them, and were often caught whispering until he or K-Mart drew close, at which point the group would quickly scatter and disperse.

After some time, however, he incident smoked over, and the wind of time and movement brushed the ash away. K-Mart made light, however careful, conversation with some of the children again, and the convoy smiled at him in their old, trusting way again. Despite this, he no longer trusted the group. He had regained his old place as admired protector after five more attacks of the undead, but he was no longer able to smile or speak a supportive word towards them.

The only members of the convoy that still held his trust and affection were the ring leaders, namely Claire. She had risen to his request, however grudgingly, and befriended K-Mart with smiles, hugs, and semi-forced jokes. K-Mart was tense at first, but eventually loosened into Claire's friendship. Truth be told, it seemed to take Claire longer to settle into a friendship that she had planted than the girl. Carlos watched their interaction whenever he could, smiling gently, as he was now.

"Eight shells, I win," K-Mart proclaimed triumphantly, gathering up the empty bullet shells with which the convoy had created games.

"Bull shit," Claire objected, ruining the innocence of the game. "Your little eight shells don't match to a full casing!"

"Each shell counts for five bullets when used in the head. These four were head shot, fair and square," K-Mart answered with a smirk.

"Head sh-" Claire sputtered her indignation. "Fuck you! Since when do head shot have anything to do with it?"

"Since Carlos made it up to make up for his loosing when he taught me," K-Mart answered simply. Claire growled audibly from twenty feet away, and Carlos grinned widely at her, holding up his hands.

"You cheating bastard," Claire snapped at him. "At least tell me when you change the fucking rules."

"Watch the language, that's my sister you're influencing," he warned, but continued to smile.

Claire always cursed heavily when doing something competitive, and the fact that she was playing with such enthusiasm was a rough jewel. He snorted with laughter when she cursed even more profanely and turned back to the game. The strong, independent woman had needed this. He had started becoming worried that one day, the woman would snap and throw herself to the undead for lack of anything worth living for. It seemed K-Mart was changing that. He stood from his leaning position against the black truck and swung his magnum over his shoulder as he strode towards them on his way to the perimeters. LJ was coming in early from his watch, as usual, signaling for Carlos to take over his half-assed shift. He paused next to K-Mart and leaned down, laying a gentle kiss on the girl's head. K-Mart looked up and stood urgently, splaying shells over the ground.

"Let me go out with you," she pleaded. She turned her gaze back to Claire with a guilty smile. "Not that I don't want to play, but I like to go on the perimeters. It's quiet." Claire shrugged, her cold mask settling back in. Carlos gazed intently at her to assure himself she was not taking it to heart. But no, she had on her business mask, rather than her cold-heartless-bitch mask. There was a definite difference that made all the world. Still, he shook his head.

"No."

"Please, Carlos," K-Mart grasped hi arm tightly, refusing to allow him to budge. "You know I can shoot a gun, I'm not afraid of them now. I downed five of them last time!" Carlos matched his eyes to her, placing a gentle hand along her jaw.

"I know you can." The girl's eyes were calm, clear, and calculating. At least if anything happened, she was in the right state of mind to handle it as best she could. That besides, he had been encouraging the building of the friendship between K-Mart and Claire so much recently, he had not had any private time with his adopted sister for three weeks. Half of the time she was sleeping in Claire's truck now. "Alright. Claire- you got that M-15?"

"You mean the one she's too good with? Here," Claire reached inside the truck and tossed the gun to Kmart, who caught the gun with unnerving ease. "Maybe she'll beat you in head-shots this time, ass hole," she called out to Carlos as he and K-Mart walked away, arms around each other comfortably. Carlos raised a hand in a dismissing wave, but he grinned widely.

The two of them sat the quad, Carlos on the back end, one leg perched on a wheel, K-Mart between his legs, using him as a leaning post as she listened to his heart beat rhythmically in his chest. Every chance she got, the girl cherished the sound of the heart that held life and death in it's bloody hands within Carlos's chest. It was a sound that told her that he was alive and healthy, for now at least. They were silent, scanning the area, guns prepped and ready for the shot, enjoying one another's presence. Still, thoughts scampered through K-Mart's head, and finally, she spoke, however hesitantly.

"Carlos?"

"I never like conversations that start like that," Carlos replied, never taking his eyes off the horizon over which the sun was rising. The land around them was dying off quickly now, only sand, brown grass and dead trees seeable for miles. It was oddly beautiful. The land was beginning the match the horror they lived in. His thoughts were drawn back to the girl, who lay more heavily against his chest, and he did break his glance to look down at her in a startled way. "What's wrong?"

"That's just it," the thirteen year old replied. "Nothing. As scary as all this is…even though we know we may eventually starve or be bitten…I'd rather be living like this, than back in my old life." Carlos frowned, unsure of where the conversation was heading. "I wish I could say I have a good reason for it… hell, I almost wish I could say I was abused, or that my parent were drunk…just to give a good reason for liking life the way it is. But I can't. I was a spoiled girl that gossiped and talked with my best friend about how hot Orlando Bloom was." Carlos said nothing, recognizing this as one of the girl's rare moments of releasing her emotions and thoughts in any detail. "I can't imagine how life would have been if you hadn't saved me and let me tag along like a lost puppy." She let out a small, breathy laugh. "It's like that song from Pocahontas. You know, that one called "If I Never Knew You"."

Carlos almost flinched, realizing that he was old enough he was already too old to watch Disney movies when the movie had been released. He felt his heart clench when it only served to remind him how young the girl was, and how much she had lost. But here she was, professing how glad she was things turned out the way they had. He gazed down at the kid that stood on the brink of evolving into a woman, but was still young by every definition of the word. The girl looked up at him with eyes that shone in the dying sunlight with even more trust, care, and love than his biological sister had ever shone. He was suddenly swamped with the need to protect, cherish and love this girl that had laid her life in his hands.

Upon impulse, he tipped her chin up with his knuckle and laid a gentle, gossamer kiss upon her lips before drawing her into a protective hug, which she took up comfortably. It had not been a kiss of lust or desire, but a kiss of promise and caring, a kiss only the most strongly connected siblings share. Carlos had not meant it any other way, and K-Mart had not taken it in any other form. Both understood it's meaning, and both had settled back into silence, unspeaking for the rest of the watch.

"Carlos."

Claire's harsh, sharp voice woke him out of his stupor in the van, attempting to look at Claire without moving the very comfortable K-Mart, who had spent the night in the yellow SUV with him again. They had settled back into their routine that night, the small moment during evening watch having connected them strongly again. Both knew that they would separate again within the next few days, but for the moment, neither felt the desire to dire the other away.

"What? Infected?" Carlos's mind was automatically on alert, tense and ready to jump for his gun. Claire shook her head.

"No." Her eyes were steely in the orange glow of the camp fires. "But I need to talk to you. Alone." She flicked her eyes pointedly towards K-Mart. Carlos frowned in confusion, but nodded and slipped carefully out from behind the girl, stripping off his vest and crumpling it to create a pillow in his place. He brushed his lips across her sleeping head, then followed Claire, who's face was fixed into an expression he had only ever seen when one of the convoy's members were in danger: fiercely protective and exceedingly deadly. He almost hesitated in following her. What could he have done to earn that look?

"What did you need?" he asked, hanging back slightly as he noticed she had drawn him unusually far from the camp. He realized this did little to save him when Claire's fist collided painfully with his jaw. He staggered backwards, less from the physical pain than from the shock of Claire's violence towards him.

"Claire- What-"

"You son of a bitch," Claire snarled, stepping towards him again, her fists still clenched. "I thought you ok. You are one sorry bastard." Carlos stared at Claire in complete shock, totally lost. "Don't act stupid," Claire bit out. "You could have had anyone here. You could have had the nurse, any one of the convoy women…shit, you could have had me." There was pain along with the protectiveness, and Carlos cringed inwardly. He wasn't completely dim. He knew what she was getting to, now. She must have seen the kiss he had delivered upon K-Mart. His heart plunged into his stomach as he realized what it must have looked like. He shook his head violently.

"It was not what it looked like," he began, and paused when he realized how cliché the answer sounded. "It wasn't a kiss."

"What was it then, Carlos?" Claire spat. "Were you trying to put Chap Stick on with your lips?" Her dark face told him the wrong answer would have her raining down on him with her very solid fists.

"It was a promise." Claire's face continued to gaze at him with pure anger, which told him the answer didn't cut it. The orange of the nearby campfires lit up eyes that were not only angry, but rejected and abandoned. He had known Claire had had feelings for him for some time, but he had never been interested. He had seen her as a good, close friend, even if she had not returned the friendship. The situation being what it was, he had essentially ignored the feelings he had picked up only because of his acute perceptiveness, and moved on as though they did not exist, for Claire surely did not want them exposed. But now, he knew how to handle both situations with one stone. He took a step forward and laid a kiss as chaste and light as K-Mart's upon Claire's unsuspecting lips. He had been careful to deliver a very clear message in the kiss: A promise to be a loyal companion and protector, but nothing more.

The woman tensed, and her hand rose, but he had backed away before she could strike. She gazed at him, her eyes flitting across his face, surprised, wounded, and healed all in one moment. He had explained his kiss to K-Mart and his simple feelings for her in a fell swoop. She felt the cold, hating ice melting within her.

"It was only a promise," Carlos stated, and laying a gentle squeeze upon her shoulder, he made is way back to he vehicle in which his little sister slept. He could feel Claire watching him, but he ignored it, moving into the SUV, carefully situating K-Mart around him, who easily settled against his body in her sleep. Laying his head upon his hand as a rest, he shut his eyes and eased into a semi-sleep.


	9. Chapter 9

**Author note: I know this is short, but I felt that drawing it out anymore would be repetitive and make K-Mart a little too dim. It drives me insane when people make characters so slow in figurin out matters of the heart that they pass the line of stupid. And so you have one short but well wrapping scene.**

**&.&**

Carlos was extremely relieved to find that it appeared only Claire had spied the innocent kiss he had given K-Mart, as no one treated either of them as though they had seen anything. Claire had not spoken another word of it over the next few days and had continued to treat K-Mart as a close friend. Carlos could even swear he had heard Claire _giggle_ with his adopted sister the previous day. It was an unnatural sound, coming from the hardened woman, but one that warmed his heart. As time had gone by, Carlos no longer felt the need to watch over K-Mart in light of Claire's sudden warming to the girl. As such, he had ceased making every one of his posts during the day close enough to throw a careful eye towards his sister.

During one of those daylight posts, Claire and K-Mart were relaxing in the black truck, sipping overly-warm water bottles and trying to seat as little as possible in the summer heat. They were speaking in quiet, slurred voices, the heat bearing around them like a dense blanket. Normally they would be using each other as pillows, but it was far too sweltering to do that now. It did not stop the typically deep conversation that had been occurring so frequently.

"How come you like me all of a sudden?" K-Mart asked without preamble. Claire froze, bottle mid-way towards her lips. She hesitated, resting the water on her propped knee. She looked out the open door of the truck, watching the convoy as it lay scattered, everyone attempting to find whatever shade was available.

"It's not that I didn't like you," she answered quietly, trying to decide how much to tell the girl. "I just have trouble connecting."

"That line belongs in a cheap movie," K-Mart snorted. "I know Carlos had something to do with it. Don't lie to me," she snapped as Claire opened her mouth to object. The woman closed her mouth and sighed. She did not want to rat on Carlos, but the girl deserved the truth.

"Carlos cares about you," Claire answered carefully. "More than I've ever seen him care about anyone." K-Mart smiled.

"He's a good brother."

Claire nodded and continued haltingly.

"Sometimes…he cares too much…he worried that if he lost you…he wouldn't survive." K-Mart frowned, shaking her young head in confusion. Claire tried to explain it as gently as possible. "Imagine if he had been killed three months ago," she stated simply. She hated creating even the thought of Carlos dying. She was not sure _she_ could survive without him. She could see a similar swamp of despair wash over K-Mart. She placed an uncomfortable hand over the girl's head, gliding it down her jaw and placing it on her shoulder. "That's why." There was no more explanation needed. K-Mart nodded, a rejected expression settling on her face. Claire clenched her jaw, then squeezed the child's shoulder and smiled reassuringly.

"He didn't have to ask me to do it," she said gently. "I've found a good friend in you, kid." K-Mart's face lit up almost instantaneously, and she let out a breathy laugh, relieved that their friendship was genuine.


	10. Chapter 10

**Author Note:**

**Well, I started out with two readers and ended with two. I suppose I lost one and gained one somewhere along the way. I'll try harder next time. :) **

**But as for my reviewers, I thank you deeply for reading and reviewing with such uplifting comments. I will most likely be writing a sequal set after Carlos sacrifices himself in RE: Extinction. I think I might even move on to K-Mart leading the convoy beside Claire. Who knows?**

**Thanks again, and anyone else that reads this, please give reviews!!**

&.&

Carlos and K-Mart had settled into their more separate ways once more, spending days with little more than a good morning hug and wave during the day more frequently than they spent them together. When she was spending time with one of the protective group, it was usually Claire or Mikey, who showed no back bone when it came to the girl. Something about Carlos's little sister disarmed the Australian man, and he was often seen playing endless games of Shell Attack (the name given to the game played with empty bullet shells) with the competitive girl.

K-Mart was quickly becoming ring leader for the children and teens of the convoy, her inner strength and independence revealing itself as each attack from the undead threatened them. She had become very adept with the M-15, and was near as deadly a shot as Carlos or Claire. Even those that were older than K-Mart by a few years admired the girl as she rattled off clip after clip of bullets, rarely missing her mark. Carlos sometimes worried how the girl would take it when she would be unable to save one of those children, but for now, he had little to worry about. What few undead K-Mart failed to down, Carlos took out quickly as he kept his close guard on the group during the attacks.

After each go with the infected, Carlos watched Claire's pride grow as she watched K-Mart turn in her gun. Every time the girl survived, each child that the young teen saved another life, it made her more and more like Claire. She was not becoming as cold as the woman, but she was earning the respect of the convoy, and gaining the strength and leadership that crowned Claire. Carlos had his suspicions that when she was old enough, Claire would pass the leadership of he convoy to K-Mart. It was a frighteningly big responsibility, but one that K-Mart would easily be capable of later on. He was watching Claire groom and prepare her for the role with his own eyes, even if Claire herself was not aware of it. Carlos would have logically been next in line to lead the convoy, should anything happen to Claire, but he didn't want the job. He was a protector, not a leader. But K-Mart was quickly becoming one, and he had no question that she would be just as fine and strong a leader as Claire some day in the future.

The longer Carlos went without K-Mart as his constant shadow, the more he was reminded of how lonely life was without someone o depend upon for company and unconditional love. Still, he knew that it was better this way. The less attached they were to one another, the more likely they were to survive. As it was, he still had his quiet days alone with the girl from time to time, and he cherished them. And during the days he was not spending with her, he was often watching from unseen shadows, smiling as he gazed at his sister in pride.

Even if it was better for them to stay separate most of the time, they still had each other, and the powerful love they shared. He could ask for little more in a time like this.


End file.
